


The ashes of who I used to be

by justhockey



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex Manes Deserves Nice Things, Boys In Love, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, Light Angst, M/M, Michael Guerin Loves Alex Manes, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:48:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhockey/pseuds/justhockey
Summary: The sun had set hours ago and a gentle rainfall has taken its place. It’s soothing, to be out in the cabin in the middle of nowhere, with the sound of rain on the roof and the love of his life lying next to him.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 9
Kudos: 114





	The ashes of who I used to be

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Angel on Fire_ by Halsey.

Their day was easy, fun, which is a rare enough thing for Alex and the people that he loves. The sun had set hours ago and a gentle rainfall has taken its place. It’s soothing, to be out in the cabin in the middle of nowhere, with the sound of rain on the roof and the love of his life lying next to him. 

But still, there’s an uneasy feeling in his stomach, a heaviness weighing down on his chest. It’s not a huge thing, not in comparison to the chaos they’re used to, but it’s enough, like a single hair tickling your face that you just can’t seem to find. Alex knows that if he doesn’t move it soon, though, it’ll snowball into something bigger. 

And Alex and Michael have learned, through years of pain and misunderstandings, that communication is the most important thing. After all, if love alone was enough, they’d have been coming up on their 12th anniversary. 

“Hey?” Alex says, his voice disrupting the quiet. 

He’s sitting up in bed, one knee pulled up towards his chest and a book resting carefully on top of it. The only light in the room is from the soft glow of his bedside lamp, and Michael is turned away and breathing evenly, but Alex still knows that he’s awake. They’ve spent enough nights together by now that even Michael’s breathing is familiar to him. 

“Hm?” Michael responds. 

He sounds close to sleep, like maybe if Alex hadn’t said anything he’d have drifted off in seconds. Alex feels guilty momentarily, but then Michael rolls over and smiles softly at him. He reaches a hand out and circles it around Alex’s forearm gently. Alex had assumed that, eventually, Michael’s touch wouldn’t steal his breath every single time, but that day hasn’t arrived yet. He kind of hopes that it never does. 

“Can I ask you something?” The words feel heavy on his tongue but he says them anyway. 

Michael frowns a little at that. Alex gets it. They’ve been good for so long now - fucking _perfect_ actually. But still. So much of their time loving each other has been spent balancing precariously on a knife edge, just waiting for the inevitable crash. So Alex smiles, moves his arm out of Michael’s hold so he can gently rub out the crease that has formed between his eyebrows. 

“Don’t look so worried,” he laughs. 

Michael instantly softens, but he still rolls his eyes. 

“What is it babe?” He asks, voice rough with tiredness. 

Alex takes a breath, doesn’t know how to ask for this thing he wants - _needs_ \- so desperately that his whole body aches for it. Out of habit, he begins to play with the silver band on the ring finger of his left hand. 

The whole thing had been kind of a disaster, really. Michael had stuttered and stammered his way through the proposal, a furious red blush decorating the tops of his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. He’d even dropped the ring twice in the process. So, by _disaster_ , Alex really means perfect. 

And it’s new enough that it still surprises Alex when he sees it sometimes, but it fits like it was meant to be. It’s like he was always going to end up wearing Michael Guerin’s engagement ring one way or another, it just took them a few detours before they made it. 

“When we get married,” he begins, then pauses to gage Michael’s reaction. 

The skin beside his eyes crinkles as he smiles, and Alex’s heart feels warm in a way that he’s still not completely used to. 

“Would it be okay if I took your last name?” Alex asks, no longer looking at Michael, too afraid of seeing rejection on his face. 

There’s a moment of complete stillness, silence. And then Michael breathes out loudly. 

“Baby-“

“-I just, _please_ , Michael? I just can’t have this name anymore, I can’t be attached to him, to _all_ of them, any longer. I don’t want to be a part of it.” 

It’s hard, for Alex to put into words what he needs, hard for him to ask for something for himself. He’s spent most of his life unable to depend on anyone, unable to ask for the things that he needs, so he finds it difficult sometimes. Doesn’t want to be a burden or a bother, doesn’t want to ask for more than someone is willing to give him. But slowly, with Liz and Kyle in his corner, with Michael’s unwavering love, Alex is learning how to want things for himself, and how to ask for them too. 

Michael shifts, sitting up and crossing his legs, turning so he’s facing Alex head on. He reaches out his hand, and the scarring is gone now but Alex still sees it every time anyway, just another reminder of how much pain his family has caused. But then Michael’s hand cups his face so gently, let’s his thumb brush over Alex’s cheekbone as he smiles. 

“You’re not your dad, Alex,” Michael tells him. 

Alex knows that, he does, but sometimes. Sometimes he looks in the mirror and he can see his dad glaring back - doesn’t understand how Michael can stand to look at him some days, after everything the Manes family has done to destroy Michael’s. And sometimes he wakes up from nightmares about Iraq, and Michael is always there to hold him but it doesn’t change the truth of them, that when he dreams of killing people it isn’t a fabrication, it’s a memory. Alex can’t help but think that maybe he’s too much like his dad. 

“Where’d you go?” Michael says softly, bringing Alex back into focus. 

“I just, I know I’m not him, but sometimes I-“

He’s scared to finish, scared to admit that he thinks he could turn out to be just like him one day. Sure, not the genocidal xenophobia or homophobia, but the cruelty, maybe. The coldness. Because Alex knows without any doubt that he’d be capable of unspeakable things in order to protect Michael from Project Shepherd, wouldn’t even flinch while doing them if it meant keeping his love safe. 

But he’s afraid to admit that to Michael. He couldn’t bear to see the look in his eyes, the disgust or rejection or hurt. Michael has suffered so much pain in his life, Alex doesn’t ever want to be the cause of more. 

“What if I’m more like him than I thought?” Alex asks. 

He sounds young, like he’s seventeen all over again and afraid of just about everything except for the way Michael smiles at him. 

Michael’s face falls and he presses closer, one knee resting on Alex’s thigh and the other digging into his hip. Alex doesn’t care as long as Michael keeps touching him, keeps _loving_ him. 

“You’re nothing like him. I promise you, okay?” Michael says, and he looks so sincere that Alex wants to believe him. “You are _so_ good baby, you have the most amazing heart and there’s not a single doubt in my mind about that.”

Alex can’t help but close the small distance between them to kiss him. It helps, that Michael is so completely sure about him, even after all this time, even after hearing his war stories. Alex is self-aware enough to know that his own perception of himself can be flawed, and while Michael’s view of him is probably a little bias too, Alex probably falls somewhere in the middle. Not the saint that Michael sees him as, but not his dad reincarnate, either. 

Still, the name might be revered amongst military personnel, but to Alex it feels like a stain against him, something dirty and sour-tasting. 

“I just hate that I’m associated with him,” Alex explains. “And I know that sharing a name doesn’t mean I’m going to end up like them, but I don’t want it, Michael. I don’t want it anymore.” 

He’s tired, because it’s late and they’ve had a busy day, but also because he’s tired of being the other Manes kid, of being grouped in with his grandfather, and his dad, and Flint. 

“Alex, are you sure?” Michael asks. 

His hand is resting on Alex’s shoulder and the other is holding his hand tightly. He looks so genuine and open, and it’s clear that he wants whatever Alex does, as long as Alex is sure about it. He can’t help but smile. 

“I’m positive, I don’t want to a Manes anymore. I want to share a name with someone who loves me for me, someone who wants me and chooses me.”

And it’s true. He doesn’t just want to take Michael’s name because he _doesn’t_ want his father’s. He wants it because he wants to feel like he belongs somewhere, _to_ someone, someone who loves him and accepts him. 

Michael smiles, leans in to capture Alex’s lips in an easy kiss, close-mouthed and chaste but Alex still feels it right down to his toes because it’s _Michael_. Michael who loves him so much that Alex can feel in it every touch, see it in every smile. 

“You’re already my family,” Michael says, “I can’t wait until you’re my husband too, Alex _Guerin._ ”

He’s tried it out himself, of course, whispered it while he’s in the shower or driving alone in the car, just to see how it would taste on his tongue. But to hear Michael say it, to hear their names together like the stars designed, well. Alex can’t help the tears that slip from his eyes, sliding down his cheeks until Michael brushes them away with a swipe of his thumb. 

“Thank you,” Alex whispers, because there’s nothing else he can say, no others words that could begin to express just how much it means to him. 

“Anything for you, you know that darlin’.”

Michael leans over to kiss him again, a soft brush of his lips over Alex’s cheek. He closes the book that’s still resting on Alex’s lap, then places it carefully on the nightstand before tugging on Alex’s arm so he’ll lie down with him. 

Michael holds him so tightly that Alex can feel his heart beating against his own chest. Ever so gently, so soft he can barely feel it, Michael presses his lips to Alex’s forehead. And then it’s like the parts of himself that had been shattered for so long he’d almost forgotten about them start to knit themselves back together, the threads of his pain and suffering and joy and love and happiness weaving together and making him whole for the first time he can ever remember. 

_The pieces want to be together_ , his mind helpfully supplies. It’s true. Throughout everything, it’s like Alex and Michael have always been trying to find their way back to one other. Even when they were pushing each other away, both of them knew in their hearts that they were too intertwined to ever really let go, two halves of a whole. Cosmic.

**Author's Note:**

> Short and fluffy and sweet because they deserve it :)


End file.
